What Would Have Been
by mckee11223
Summary: What if everyone on the Ghost never met? What if they went on with their lives, dealing with the Empire in their own special little way? What if they all met again, but in a weird twist of fate you never expected? Set 6 years before Star Wars Rebels, roughly around the time Kanan and Hera meet, but don't. New Dawn references and understanding, like all my Star Wars Rebels fanfics.
1. MUST READ THIS TO CONTINUE

**Ezra Bridger's past is not in this fanfic. Everyone else, yeah. If you want to know about Ezra, go to "Brains, Brawn, and Jedi".  
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**If not, click next chapter at the top right-hand corner of this page to see Kanan, Sabine, Zeb, and Hera's past, 6 years before the start of the Ghost!**

**Totally non-canon.**


	2. Ch 1: Kanan Jarrus

**I own nothing. Star Wars Rebels characters belong to you-know-who, and there is no plagiarism intended. The only thing I own is their made-up past and new planets. Please review on my spelling and canon-ism, and give me ideas on future fanfics. Anything to please my fans!**

Kanan Jarrus

I could only watch in horror as Cyndia, with all its beautiful natural preserves and miners, blew up. Tears fought at the back of my eyes, but I forced them away. This was no time for remorse; Gorse was just another planet doomed by the Empire.

I hopped on a road-side speeder with my bag and money slung over my shoulders. Hot-wiring the engine, I mentally plotted the way to the nearest non-Empire planet: Vanit. It was an extremely rocky planet with hundreds of discovered and un-discovered Twi-lek and Wookie villages, mainly full of escaped slaves. Now there's a place full of adventure, where no one will judge me. And most importantly, it's got places to drink.

As the speeder took off with a _roar,_ I didn't stop to look back. I didn't owe anything to anyone. Not to Okadiah, not to my bosses, and definitely not to that deranged lunatic, Skelly, that blew up the moon. Or, more accurately, made plans to blow up the moon and gave them to the Empire. That was even worse.

When I got to a port, I took a scan of the nearby ships. Most of them were run-of-the-mill freighters, carriers, and Imperial ships, but one particularly caught my eye. It was supposed to be on cloak, disguised as a maintenance ship for anyone who cares, but my force abilities have always helped me see through these veils. It was almost shaped like a gem, with a bubble-like cockpit forward and another for a gunner seared just above. It was a nice ride compared to anything else in the lot. I shook my head. If I can notice it, who says the Empire won't?

I ended up taking a simple rental, probably a honeymoon or vacation vehicle. I left a note saying that I'll bring it back, which was true, but it won't be me bringing it back.

I set the hyperspace coordinates, dimly hoping that I wasn't a light-year or two off again, like last time. First time I flew while drunk, not the first time I was an idiot. The ship zoomed into hyperspace much sooner than I expected, and I ended up on the ground, and for once, it had nothing to do with a fight. Not that I lost a lot.

It was times like this, when no one can track me, when no one can watch me, that I even considered using the force. Considering was dangerous enough, because thoughts lead to actions, and actions lead to suffering. My own parody on an overused, overstressed Jedi saying. Against my every instinct, I raised my hand, and concentrated. The air hummed around me in a way that I haven't felt in nearly a decade. I couldn't. Quickly I put my hand down, and searched on the ship for a piece of scrap metal. Yelling, I punched into it, my fist throbbing but leaving an indent. Attacking something was the only way for me to forget. That, and alcohol. I sighed. In my mind, I replayed that battle with Master Depa Billaba. The battle that had cost her life, and shown to me who the true enemy is. The Empire.

_She stood silently at the door of my room, listening in. What she heard was the sound of slowed breathing, the normal sleeping routine of a teenager. What she didn't know was that the teen was listening to her in return, his lungs screaming for air, trying to maintain this aura of calm. That is, until he heard something interesting. They were footsteps, footsteps that clanged with every step and with uniform precision; getting them where they wanted to go and nowhere else. My pulse quickened, and with it, my breath. Master heard it too, but by then it was too late. I heard the screams as the soldiers invaded all the rooms, heard the clashes of battle and the thumping of bodies hitting the ground, never to rise again. I listened in fear as children and knights alike were dragged out from bed and killed, and those who did fight, like Master Depa Billaba, were quickly stricken down. I heard it outside my door, just mere meters from where I was standing, hardly daring to make a sound. "Run!" She had shouted, "Run and never look back!" I'd snapped out of whatever trance I was in, and bolted for the window. Its lock was force engaged, like much of the doors and… I stopped thinking there. If they could access the doors…_

It always pained him to think about it, about what he could've done differently. If he'd woken up earlier, maybe did a late-night training session, he would have heard them earlier and sounded an alarm. Or he could have rushed out of his room at that point, taken on whatever challenge faced him, even the prospect of the first Sith warrior in over a millennium. Then maybe his master would be alive. Maybe the Jedi would still be revered and honored.

But he didn't. He had run, caring about his safety, and his alone. The same way he has for the last 9 years. _If I did it then, why not finish my life, knowing that I can never help anyone, knowing that I'm a coward at heart?_

He hadn't even noticed that he was out of hyperspace, the ship floating dormant outside the gravitational reach of any planet. _This is a good place to rest, _he thought, and lay down on the floor and slept.


	3. Ch 2: Sabine Wren

Sabine Wren

**BTW, Sabine is 10.**

Today was the big day. The day where everything I ever worked for comes into focus. The day that my skills will be proven, not just speculated, to be better than all others.

The day I become a storm cadet.

Of course, it's not settled yet. There's still a final test. The ones that have already went clammed up, and I can only guess at what excitement it is. Will it be the well, like we've done for the past months, or will it be the shooting range that I scored an all-time record in? Will it be an obstacle, or a team effort? Oh, I can hardly wait!

I sat in my room in front of my easel. The blank canvas on it was driving me nuts. Everywhere around my work, my room, my walls, everywhere, was art of different types and mediums. I just couldn't get anything on canvas. I've gotten scolded, before, for my doodling, but I just couldn't help it! They said what I was drawing was con-Empire, but hey! I just love drawing birds. Birds…

I raised my spray can, now affixed with a blaster, and turned it the paint side up. Humming the Imperial march, I began to outline the shape. A curve, then a few stokes to level it out, then the head. I grabbed another can and began to spray, creating gradient and shadow to the fabulous piece. The eye came to life, my star bird seeming to soar into the sky. I kept drawing, oblivious to my commander standing behind me, eyeing me. His eyes froze, his mouth twisted into a sad version of a frown, and a sneer.

I can never do just one thing. I always multi-task, even when I'm painting. At this point, I began to wonder about my parents. I'd never known them, never seen a picture or heard a voice. What were they like? What did they look like? Did my mother have light blond hair like me, with curls that reached down onto my shoulders? Did my father have a love for art, for drawing birds so lifelike they seemed to fly off the page and into your heart? Were they storm trooper agents, or commanders? Sometimes, it seemed that imagining was more fun than knowing.

I heard the creak of the door closing, and I whipped around to see who was there. Only then did I notice my commander standing there, silently shaking his head at me, his hand resting on the door. "What's wrong?" I asked, utterly confused.

He kept shaking his head, but when he looked up, his eyes were full of determination. "You are under arrest for treason."

I was shocked. "But, but why? I haven't done anything!"

He grabbed me by the hair, and I screamed, my voice sending a chill down my spine. He leaned in close to me, and in my ear, he whispered something. My eyes widened, my throat catching.

"But that can't be it, I've worked so hard for this!" I whispered, tears filling in my eyes.

He nodded, no longer showing any compassion or restraint. He grabbed a pair of cuffs from his belt, the old kind that was made of iron and impossible to break. **(Can anyone tell me what they use for cuffs in Star Wars Rebels?) **I yelped as he slapped them on my wrists, and with it, all hope lost.

I sat on the floor of my cell, shivering. I didn't want to sit on the stone bench, to show any sign of weakness. My mind kept replaying that scene over and over again, and I couldn't take it anymore. Groaning, I rolled backwards and lay on my chest. I peered under the bench, if only for something to do. Then I noticed something weird. Engraved under the seat were symbols. Symbols that I strangely know. What language was it? Was it one of the ones I was taught, or is it some other language that my eidetic memory made it easy learn? Either way, I couldn't believe what the message said.

It said, "Push if you believe the Empire should fall."

My mind debated over this. I wanted to press it; my fingers itched to feel the words, to run my hand over the groove and have a miracle happen. If the cameras saw me, what would they do to me? I was already convicted of treason, sent here to live the rest of my life in misery and sorrow. What did I have to lose? My inexistent parents? My double-crossing commander? My rank that I was never again going to fulfill? What hope was there? There was nothing I could do, but someone, possibly someone as smart as me, had left this message here for future prisoners. But what if I reported this to the Empire? They might be so happy that I exposed a traitor, that they welcome me to storm cadet level with open arms. I mentally battled myself, debating over and over what I should do. My life is on the line, but my life had ended when my commander said those words. The words that will scar me for life.

"_You should never have continued drawing, never have touched a can of paint again. It _doesn't _pain me to do this, to expose you for who you really are: a rebel."_

I pressed the engraving.


	4. Ch 3: Garazeb Orellios

Garazeb Orellios

**Let's say that he's 22. I'll say he's 28 during the Star Wars Rebels TV show. This is soooo not going to be canon, so don't judge me.**

Zeb sat on a rock outcropping on Lasan, staring out into the horizon. His brother sat beside his, his blue skin sickly pale, his eyes yellow and blood-shot.

"Garazeb, look, I know that it's my last days-"

"Karabast, how many times have we talked about this?" He exploded, throwing up his arms, "Toro, you are not going to die!"

Toro shook his head. "You know the Goyl disease kills even the strongest Lasats."

Zeb raised his arm to punch him, but stopped in midair. "The Empire will help us. They told us they'll find a cure if we allied with them. You'll be helped soon."

Toro turned to face him. "Look. You're young, you've got your whole life ahead of you. You can go anywhere, do anything! You can't stay on Lasan forever."

"I can and I will. I don't need to see the galaxy. Lasan is fine."

Toro stared off into the distance. His eyes squinted as he tried to see farther. His once perfect eyesight was now marred by disease. Zeb sighed. He looked out to the ground, and he frowned at what he saw. A plume of smoke rose into the sky, and he could hear blasters firing.

"I have to check this out." He rose from his seat. Brushing off dust, he climbed down the rocks, his hands and feet moving nimbly from ledge to ledge. He was always the best at climbing, though all Lasats can climb.

The ground shook as he ran, but it wasn't from his footsteps. He could see that it was his village that was on fire. He changed course and ran towards his house, well on the outskirts of the already small town. The closer he got, the thicker the smoke got. He started coughing, putting his hand over his mouth. The smoke seeped into his lungs, and his eyes began to water. There was no doubt now that it was his home that was burning. When he couldn't go any further, he began to turn back. That's when he saw the Imperials.

This was not the first time he's seen them, but it was the first time they've been hostile. He's heard about they taking over planets, destroying the inhabitants, but he never thought it would happen to Lasan. They raised blasters at him, but they were different.

"T-7 disrupters kill off organic beings so much easier than blasters." One said, addressing a smaller trooper. Zeb recognized that voice…

"Father, you betrayed our family." He growled, lunging at the Lasat in Imperial armor. He fired the disrupter at him, and he felt a burning pain in his arm. He looked at his injury, and his heart skipped a beat. Stone was spreading through his veins and skin. His arm was already stiff, the muscles slack where they'd once been powerful. "Goyl disease. That's what it spreads."

"So you've figured it out." The trooper standing beside his father smirked. His helmet was different from all the others, steel instead of whatever those white buckets were made of.

"What about mother? Or Sabrina?" Zeb asked, his heart constricting with worry for his mother and little sister. She was barely able to walk.

"Dead. Useless."

Zeb growled. He didn't want to do this. With his good arm, he whipped out his staff, the one he got just days ago for being an honor guard. It glowed purple, which reflected his skin color, thgouh it was more of a grey from the smoke and disease.

"Ha!" The man smirked. "You're useless. I'll let you go out of pity. You have 60 seconds."

Zeb didn't look back. He didn't bring anything but his staff and the knowledge that the Empire will do anything to win. Even if it meant killing innocent civillians.

His arm hurt terribly.

**BTW, I started this in hopes that I will only do Sabine and Kanan, but I realized that I have to do everyone. So, it won't be as good as Kanan's.**


	5. Ch 4: Hera Syndulla

Hera Syndulla

**BTW, she is 18. That's what I'm sticking with. And I didn't watch Star Wars Clone Wars, so can someone please tell me who the heck Cham Syndulla is?! And girls' perspective will be in the first person, guys will be in second person. Just to clarify.**

There was no wind on Gorse, nothing but earthquakes and gangs and drunks. I've been here for many days, my ship collecting dust, disguised as a maintenance vehicle. Along with superior flying skills, my pair of hands came very useful for hacking into Imperial channels. The Ghost, as I called it, was fueled and ready to go. There was no point in me staying on this god-forsaken planet, yet someone keeps me anchored. That same someone with the data cube sitting in front of me.

"All right. I'd come here to meet this guy I met on the HoloNet. He's a man named Hetto. He works for a company with a surveillance contract for the Empire. Hetto had grown worred about what he saw as abuses of authority – and he had already been in contact with the other… _concerned parties._" I said, keeping my voice low. The Sullustan woman, Zaluna, worked for the same company. She'd already gotten rid of all the cameras, and was listening with rapt, but nervous, attention.

"He was arrested for trying to meet you," Zaluna said, shaking her head.

"It wasn't just that," I said, trying to sound soothing. "You know that. Hetto was aware, Zaluna. Awake to all the things the Empire is doing. This meeting? It was him reaching out, trying to do something. You were brave enough to take it on yourself, to finish what he started."

"I'm not brave," Zaluna said, her voice a little shaky. "I'm an old fool. I remember too much. I remember how it was – and how people didn't kill guildmasters on a whim and walk away without a thought." Her black eyes glistened. "And I remember when my people were safe. Those employees of mine are my children, and now one of them's in deep trouble.." She focused her gaze on me. "Will they kill Hetto?"

My mind swarmed with all the information I knew, of just how ruthless the Empire could be. I shivered as I remembered the reason I was here: Count Vidian. He was a man, mostly cyborg now, that was terrorizing miners on the moon, Cyndia. I couldn't let him kill any more. I've seen him kill two tour guides from the companies that he inspected, making people work to and past their limits; he even stoops as low as to punish an innocent miner for being old. If that man hadn't shown up and stopped him, the miner would be dead, or worse. I had thought about following him, but this wasn't a recruiting trip. I was here for information. Information that Zaluna was frustratingly withholding.

"He could just be at a labor camp. Hetto is a talented person, and they'll want to keep him around, maybe eve doing work like he is now. Just someplace else." I said, pleased with my gentle let down. I was never really good at being compassionate.

Zaluna nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer too. "Maybe they even have daylight there. Hetto's always wanted to see the break of dawn."

Zaluna reached into her bag and pulled out the data cube. My hands yearned for me to reach for it, to finally get off this planet and pinpoint the next spot of interest. It wasn't like I expected, though: I'd had in mind a holodisk, but this, this _cube,_ was definetly bigger than a holodisk.

"This is what Hetto wanted you to have." She said, peering up at me. "You know what's on it?"

"I think so," I said, and reached into my pocket. Pulling out a small reading device, I asked, "May I?"

Zaluna paused, suddenly reluctant again. "this is it, isn't it? This is the moment.: Glancing all around the bar, shee took a deep breath. "It's exciting, almost, being on this side of the cams. You wonder who else is here."

"There's no Imperial agents here, if that's what you're saying. They're all drunks. I've seen enough of them in brawls to know that they're not here for the Empire."

"You can look at it," Zaluna finally decided, offering the data cube into my waiting hand. "That's what Hetto wanted. But – maybe you'd better give it right back afterward. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, barely more than a mumble. I was already absorbed into the device, savouring the information as if it was a good bit of gossip - which it was. "This is huge. It's not just the information – it's how it was retrieved. The Empire is everywhere."

"But not omniscient," Zaluna said. "Eyes and ears can fail." She nodded at what I was holding. "Study that long enough, and you'd see were they fall short."

I pointed to the datapad. "This section here. What are these names?"

Zaluna examined the section I was looking at and cleared her throat. I almost told her to be quiet, in case someone saw us and decided to intrude. Being attractive was not always good. "That's different. Those are all the requesets made on the Imperial channel to the Transcept databast. People they're interested in. Background checks, bideo files being pulled. I think Hetto was downloading right up until a few minutes before he was arrested," Zaluna said. "There are some really recent ones in there."

I pointed to a name. "What's this very last one – Lemuel Tharsa?"

"That's one of the command-level requests from the Star Destroyer. Somebody important wanted to know about him."

I pondered her words for a moment. "Command level. Like the captain? Or Count Vidian?"

"I suppose."

"And who is Lemuel Tharsa?"

"The name doesn't sound familiar," Zaluna said. She took the cube and reader from me and ran, I think, a search. "Someone by that name did visit the planet twenty years ago – someone started a file on him, at least. No details, though."

"Why would they be looking for a guy like that?" I asked, curious at what the relevance between Vidian and Tharsa could be. Could he be my missing puzzle piece?

"No idea. Sorry there's not more – back in the commercial surveillance days, there were more legal limits to tracking." Zaluna said, passing the reader and cube back to me. "Of course, I probably saw the guy back then, if it was even the same person. Maybe something will jog my memory."

I chuckled. "Well, you spy on millions of people. I wouldn't expect you to remember them all."

She pointed to the bar. "The man that used to work there? Kanan Jarrus, human male, early twenties," Zaluna said, looking up at me. "Freighter pilot, dangerous cargo. Flight clearance sevem. Emigrated to Gorse five months ago from – "

I grabbed her wrist. "Okay, you're spooky. I get it." I took another look at the reader. "This is very good," I said, detaching the reader and passing the data cube back to the woman. "Very good, very worth Hetto's sacrifice. And yours. May I have it long enough to copy it? I'm bust with the reason I'm here, but for this, I'd make time."

Zaluna's eyes lit up, bigger than before. "I thought meeting Hetto was the reason you were here."

I shook my head. "I've got bigger fish to catch, and this is just the bait."

Just then, a man ran into _The Asteroid Belt,_ hollering at the top of his lungs.

"Oh no." She said, stuffing the data cube in her bag. I stared at the crowd, but the man was lost. "He's here. Why would he be here now?" She stood up hurridly, her eyes large and darting.

"What? Who's here? What is it, Zaluna? The Empire?" I was worried. I've come to trust Zaluna's insticts.

Having already made a decision, Zaluna walked towards the door. "This is too much. I have to go. Good-bye!"

I was confused, until I saw someone wearing a tan overcoat standing nearby. It was the man that had come in just a moment ago.

"Hera, just the person I'm looking for."

**Another BTW, the timeline for when Kanan leaves Gorse is about an hour or two before the meeting, not according to canon.**


	6. Chapter 5: Kanan Jarrus

Kanan Jarrus

Vanit was nothing like he expected. And he means that in the best way possible.

Apparently this place has expanded since he was last here, and now it was a trade central. Organics and droids milled around, and he couldn't see a single wookie.

That was good, right?

Kanan sighed and continued to tamper with the ship's control panel. He programed hyperspace to remotely take it back to what was left of Gorse, and set out on his route.

He was heading towards a village, somewhat south of here, near a deep ravine on Vanit. He had made a solemn promise to now get too attached, but this was not a visit. It was more of a sight-seeing trip, checking to see if his past still existed, or if it was wiped off the side of the planet like Caleb Dume.

This was the first planet he had fled to when he left Corusan.

_Caleb frantically pressed at the controls, growing anxious and alarmed through every ring of the alarm. Smoke began to billow out from the craft, and it took all his strength to pilot the stubborn controls. The face of a barren, rocky planet loomed out at him, its cliffs protruding like spikes, threatening to hang him from the gallows. The ship coasted at his hands, but crashed as soon as he landed. He rolled several times along with the ship, every breath hurting. Crawling away from the ship, he hid inside a rocky crevasse as the ship exploded, sending shrapnel flying deep into his chest and heart, metaphorically. He's lost his last contact with Corusan._

_Every breath hurt as struggled to stand, his ribs cracking with the effort. His arm dangled at an unnatural angle, and his eye was swollen and red. He tried to take a step, but crashed into a cave wall instead. He felt light-headed, and he couldn't stop his body from numbing, slowing down. The last sight he ever saw was the blue sky, and the stars in it._

Kanan shook his head. Memories don't help him; they never have. And with that thought, he turned away from the village. Why go somewhere just to provoke those harmful thoughts? To slow him down and let down his guard? To get captured by the Imperials, to be made an example of in front of the whole galaxy, his gruesome murder flashing across screens?

He'd seen too much in his life, and knowledge is never a good thing.

But it was too late to turn away. The sight of the village loomed ahead, and his growling stomach told him to go towards it. He regretted every step he took, and even more when another onslaught of memories came for him.

_Caleb woke up in a bed. The night outside was dark, the stars still shining. A sound outside the door startled him, and he sat up on the bed. Too late, he remembered his injuries, and hissed with pain. The door opened, and came a medical droid. Showing no emotion, the droid flitted around the bed._

_"Your name, sir?" It chirped, its voice deep and mechanical. Caleb wondered whether or not he should give the droid his real name, but decided against it. Name, name, name. Your name is your identity, and he didn't intend to have the Empire catch him, just yet.  
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_"Kanan Jarrus." He said, taking the first name that popped into his mind._

_"Kanan Jarrus, you do not show up on Imperial databases. Please state your buisness and rank."_

_"I'm a wandering trader of the Outer Rim." He said, going along with this 'Kanan' lie._

_The droid simply made a series of noises and rolled outside, closing the door with a soft thud._

_The newly named Kanan Jarrus smashed a window and slid out, his eye shut, his arm in a sling. His chest no longer hurt, but with only one eye, it was getting hard to see._

Kanan didn't want these memories. As if in pain, he lifted his hand and covered his eye. The landscape remained unchanged, as he had learned to see out of only one eye. Caleb Dume was too innocent, too inexperienced, and he was determined to leave that life behind.

Memories shouldn't haunt for 6 years, but they did. He just has to live with it.


	7. Chapter 6: Sabine Wren

Sabine Wren

Alarms went off everywhere. I could see nothing through the blinding red lights, and my cell door opened to reveal my commander. She made a tisk noise with her tounge as she dragged me up from the floor and put me in handcuffs yet again.

Many kids were looking in from outside, and I wondered why. Then I saw. This was the room everyone was taken into for their test. The one that everybody emerged from victoriously.

_That was the test. They were testing my loyalty to the Empire! _ A shock wave was sent through my body before I collapsed into sobs. The commander dragged me roughly to my feet, although she knew that she didn't need to explain anything. I've figured it all out.

And I hated them for it. This was the sickest thing I've ever seen anyone do; to test a little girl by giving her candy, metaphorically speaking.

Then I was dragged to another cell, put in a prison uniform, yada yada yada…

I just knew I had to escape. Or I won't see my next birthday.

Whoever invented air vents is a genius, I thought as I crawled through the vents. My knees and hands echoed on the thin sheets of metal, and I was severely worried that it might collapse under my weight. The air here was damp and stale, and I felt claustrophobic. I gasped for air again, when I saw a shaft of light ahead. I crep forwards and saw my commander.

"But she is so young! It's cruel to test children like this!" She prstested. Yeah, you only just realized?

"This is fair. If she can't show undying loyalty to the Empire at a young age, then how do we know we can trust her?" A man's voice said. I could only see a lock of his blue hair from my vantage point.

"But she's the smartest cadet I've had in a long time!" The commander protewsted again.

"We'll have other smart kids. The one thing that we do not tolerate is traitors!" The man spat the word out, and I scurried ahead. "What was that?" His voice sounded from behind me.

Rats. I made too much noise. Carefully, I continued forward, but I could already hear the man calling reinforcements. I went faster now, all speed and no stealth as I tried in vain to get somewhere. Finally, I fell out in the docking bay. I snagged a ship and hacked into the mainframe, and decided where to go.

Lothal. The safest place in all of the Empire. There was no way that the Imperials would follow me there!

I fired up the engine. _Hello, hyperspace._


End file.
